January 9th, 1998
It was early in the morning and Michael woke up to the sound of one of his daughters crying.
He rolled over and looked at the clock.
Six in the morning? Good job girls!
He smiled. The girls were doing a pretty good job at sleeping through the night. He figured they were catching up on the sleep they lost at the hospital.
“Baby I-”
Mariah wasn’t on her side of the bed. Michael furrowed his eyebrow. She usually didn’t wake up with the babies.
Maybe she’s with them, finally trying to help out.
Michael sat up on the bed in his silk, red, form-fitting pajamas. Their bed sat high, so he had to slide to the very edge of it in order to fully step down. He stepped into his house shoes and walked into the twins’ room. The lights were off.
“Mariah?” He called out.
When she didn’t respond he made his way over to the Mission Control system and turned on the lights.
His eyes swept the room for Mariah. There was no sign of her. He tilted his head to the side in thought before the loud roaring of his daughter’s cry interrupted him.
“Oh baby, what’s going on?” He asked as he ran over to Noelle’s crib. He picked her up and held her, rubbing her back until she stopped crying.
Pulled her away from him so he could see her eyes, he asked, “Are you hungry? I know it’s about time for you to eat mama.”
Michael picked up Nicole in the other arm, waking her up in the process, and walked the twins down the stairs.
“Mariah!” He yelled as he walked down the stairs.
“I’m not Mariah but we do look alike.” Pat joked.
Pat ran over to Michael and grabbed Nicole, who started on a cry.
“Aww sweetie, it’s okay.” Pat said gently bouncing Nicole up and down trying to get her quiet.
Michael, still holding Noelle, scanned the open concept lower level of the home for Mariah. No sign of her there.
“How are you?” Pat asked.
Michael heard her, but he didn’t respond. He put Noelle in her bouncer before walking over to the refrigerator to search for the babies’ bottles. Surprisingly, instead of two small bottles for each of them, he found two large gallons of milk: one labeled for Nicole, and the other for Noelle.
“Uhh Pat, when did these get here?”
“Oh I don’t know, they were there when I came in here this morning.” She replied, holding Nicole and biting into a bagel.
Michael read the labels aloud. “Nicole, approximately five days at 25.6oz per day. Give her whole bottle. Noelle, five days at 25oz per- What are these labels for?”
Pat shrugged, placing Nicole in her bouncer. “Maybe she pumped too much?”
He shook his head hastily. “Nah, something ain’t right.”
He hurried over to the phone and dialed Mariah’s cell phone number.
No answer.
He turned around towards Pat who was playing with the twins. “Can you feed them? There’s bottles in the cabinet.
Pat nodded.
He hurried back upstairs and knocked on the guest room door. Alison answered, her eyes narrowed into slits.
“What's going on, Mike?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.
“I thought Mariah was in here.” He explained.
Alison shook her head. “I haven't seen her since dinner yesterday.”
He frowned. “She's not in the house and she left these huge jugs of milk downstairs.”
Alison’s eyes flew open. “She can barely move. What do you mean she's not in the house?”
“She's gone.” Michael said.
Alison groaned. “Fuck. Call Brenda, I'll call Morgan.”
Michael nodded and went to he and Mariah’s bedroom to get his phone. He called Brenda first, she answered shortly after he dialed.
“Hello?” Brenda asked, sounding a little discombobulated.
“Hey Brenda.”
“Hey Mike! How is Mariah? And the babies?”
She obviously doesn't know what's going on.
“The girls are fine, Mariah’s missing though.”
Brenda gasped. “Missing? What do you mean she's missing?”
“She's nowhere to be found and she's not answering her phone.”
Brenda’s voice trembled. “I'll try to call her but Mike don't worry. I'm sure she'll turn up soon.”
“Thanks.”
Michael soon called Rachel and Shawntae only to get similar answers. He ran downstairs, almost bumping into Alison.
“Morgan said he hasn't talked to her, but he'll be on the lookout.”
Alison huffed. “I hope she doesn’t get hurt.”
He glared at her. “Why would you say that?”
“I'm sorry.” She said looking down.
He sighed. “I'm gonna call your dad. She always talks to him.”
Alison nodded. “Mom and I are gonna head out, okay?”
Michael nodded and turned towards the phone. Alison and Pat got ready to leave to drop Alison off at the airport.
January 9th, 1998
“I don't think you should be driving.” Pat said.
Alison rolled her eyes. “Mom I've been driving since I was thirteen.”
“Where was your father?” Pat said, horrified.
“Work.” Alison laughed. “Bottom line is, I know what I'm doing.”
Alison was driving down the expressway.
“Isn't your license suspended?” Pat inquired.
Alison huffed. “Why you bringing up old stuff? It was just a DUI.”
“Alison!” Pat exclaimed.
“What? You know hard it is to drive when you're high?”
Pat shook her head. “Remind me to never let you drive again.”
“Whatever. Michael drives like a maniac and you still ride with him.”
The mother and daughter continued bantering back and forth until they got to the airport. They split up, looking around and checking the bathrooms before meeting back up.
“She's not here.” Pat said.
Alison sighed. “I know. Do you think she's already at a gate? Or worse, back in New York?”
Pat shrugged, pointing at the front desk.”Only one way to find out. I think I’ll go with you.”
January 9th, 1998
Katherine picked up the phone and dialed Janet.
“Hello?” Janet answered.
“It’s your mother.” Katherine replied nervously.
“Oh hey Mother, what’s-”
Katherine interrupted. “Mariah is missing.”
“What?” Janet responded, surprised.
“We’ve called everywhere, all her friends, her staff, her relatives, we can’t find her. Michael even called the hospital to make sure she hadn’t checked herself in but she’s nowhere to be found.”
Janet gasped.
“You wouldn’t happened to have heard from her, have you?” Katherine asked.
“No Mother, I- no.” Janet responded, worriedly.
Katherine sighed. “Baby he is a mess right now. He’s all over the place trying to find her.”
Janet went quiet for a moment. “God this is all so crazy. I wish I had answers mother, I really do. Have you tried Latoya? I know they talk sometimes.”
“Okay, I’ll ask her. Let me call you right back.”
“Alright, keep me posted I’ll call around too.” Janet said.
“Alright baby, I love you.”
“Love you too Mother.”
Click.
Katherine quickly dialed Latoya, who was back at Hayvenhurst.
“Hello?”
“Toya, it's me.”
“Oh, hi Mother. How are things with Mariah and the girls?”
“Mariah’s missing.” Katherine explained. “Have you heard from her?”
“Oh my God, she's missing? No, I haven't heard from her. How long has she been gone?”
“She left some time last night.” Katherine said.
Latoya sighed. “I can't believe this. I'll keep my eyes open.”
“Thanks Latoya.”
January 10th, 1998
Michael laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Nearly a whole day had gone by since he’d seen or heard from Mariah and no one had answers. He tried her closest friends and family, almost her entire staff, and even tried to reach out to her extended family with the help of Pat.
He sat up on the bed and thought for a moment.
Where the fuck would she go on a Friday morning?
He took a deep breath before jumping out of bed and running down stairs.
“You okay baby?” Katherine asked as he made it downstairs. Since Pat and Alison left for New York, Katherine decided to stay the night with Michael to keep him company.
Michael didn’t answer the question. “Where’s all those phone books we had stacked up in the corner?”
“What phonebooks?” She asked.
Shit. Pat must’ve moved them when she cleaned.
Michael shook his head. “Nevermind.”
He darted over to the alarm system, turning it off so he could go look for the phonebooks in the garage.
He came back in the house with two copies of the Yellow Pages.
“What are you doing?”
Michael glanced up at Katherine. “She might be at a bar since I don’t keep alcohol in the house anymore.”
“A bar? Huh?”
Michael did a double take at Katherine.
Shit. Shut up Mike.
Michael started again. “Uhh, it’s nothing-”
“She drinks like that? You had to take the alcohol out of the house because of her?”
Katherine wasn’t stupid.
“Mother, it’s nothing. We have more important things to worry about.” Michael explained.
“I mean, she wasn’t drinking while she was pregnant, was she?”
“N-” Michael paused abruptly.
What if she was? I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there.
He quickly shut off his thoughts so he could focus on his search for his wife.
He started again. “Can you just help me find her?”
Katherine nodded and tossed Michael a pen.
Michael flipped through the thick book to the section of bars and restaurants and wrote down a few numbers, slipping them over to Katherine. “Call those places.”
Katherine nodded and picked up the phone to start calling.
“Hello?” Katherine said, speaking to the other voice on the phone. “Um, yes I'm looking for Mariah Carey?”
Michael looked at her like she was the dumbest person he’d ever met.
“Hello?” She said, trying to talk to someone. Michael could tell they had already hung up on her.
Katherine pulled the phone back and briefly stared at it. She put the phone back up to her ear and said again, this time drawing it out, “Hello?”
She shook her head and put the phone on the hook. “I think they hung up.”
Michael, maintaining his demeanor, turned towards the wall as if there were a hidden camera there. “When your mother shows you why she gets along so well with your most air-headed siblings.”
“Michael!” Katherine exclaimed.
Michael jumped, thinking he was about to be scolded for his rude words. Instead, he was met with something a little more awkward.
“Michael, stop staring at that wall talkin to it like there’s people there. Ain’t nobody there boy! I knew letting you play with that rat was gonna mess you up! Let me call Joseph!”
“No, mother! It’s just joke.” Michael chuckled. “See, I have this idea for a comedy show where the characters all work in one big office and they do these little confessionals and stuff. And to capitalize on the tension they sometimes break the fourth wall and the camera zooms in on their faces dramatically. We’d have a character called Dwight in there too! I was just acting it out.”
Katherine chuckled along with him. “What would you call it?”
“I don’t know, something simple? Something like…The Workplace.”
“Work on that title and it could be a hit.” Katherine advised. “But anyway, they hung up on me.”
“Mother, you can’t just call a public place and ask for a celebrity. You have to give them a description or something or else you sound like a crazy fan.” Michael explained.
“You know what, I didn’t think about that. I’ll just say I’m her mother in law.”
“No! Then they’ll really think you’re crazy. Just play it cool Mother.” Michael said.
Katherine chuckled. “I’m just playing!”
Michael blankly stared at her, face completely wooden.
“It’s a joke, right! Because I’m playing on the joke you made, you know, for your show.” Katherine explained, laughing in between her words.
Michael shook his head, trying not to giggle at his mother’s bad joke. “No Mother, just-no.”
January 10th, 1998 {Aspen} - January 11th, 1998 {Japan}
What the hell am I doing? I can’t go out there. Mariah thought to herself.
She sat in her dressing room, ready to go on with her hair and makeup done, glamourous outfit draped over her body.
“Mariah, you’ve got about ten minutes before you have to start making your way towards the stage.” Her tour manager said.
Mariah faked a smile and nodded.
She stood up out of her chair when a sharp pain surged through her body. She hunched over her vanity table, clutching her chest. As soon as the pain faded away she gulped down the bottle of water sitting next to her.
She took a deep breath, preparing herself to go out towards the stage area.
Just remember to breathe.
Now ready to go, she walked over towards the dressing room door. Before she opened the door, she said a silent prayer:
Lord, just let me get through the night.
January 10th, 1998
Michael made it back downstairs and took a seat next to Katherine on the couch. He picked up his beer bottle and took a small sip.
Katherine was watching the nightly news when suddenly the anchors mentioned Mariah’s name.
“Today singer Mariah Carey opened her Butterfly World Tour in Tokyo, only weeks after delivering twins girls with superstar husband Michael Jackson.”
Michael gripped his beer and leaned in to the TV.
“The singer appeared very weak once she took the stage, several critics noting the lack of energy that she brought to the stage.”
Michael gripped the glass tighter. Soon the news station showed pictures of Mariah on stage looking pale and tired and cut away to a pre-recorded segment taken moments after the concert.
“So how did you feel about the concert?” A reporter asked a fan.
The fan replied in a thick, Japanese accent. “I feel really really good. Very honored to be there.”
The channel switched back to the live broadcast.
Michael’s grip steadily tightened on his bottle.
“Despite what some fans say, I was there in the audience and from what I could tell she didn't really seem into the performance, you could tell she was really sick.”
Clank!
Katherine gasped. “Oh my god! Hold on baby let me go get something for you!”
Michael’s hand, now bleeding from breaking his beer bottle in it, went numb. The little bit of beer that was left in the bottle spilled on the floor below.
Not even wincing from burning pain or the blood dripping down his hands, Michael sat there--eyes glued to the TV. He couldn’t believe his wife actually chose work over her family.
January 11th, 1998
Now back in Aspen, Mariah got out of the car with two more jugs of milk for the twins. She went around the back with Wayne at her side.
“You know if he sees you, that's your ass.” Wayne said.
Mariah glared. “I know that.”
“I don't even see why you sneaking. You know he been up all night, every night looking for you.” He pointed out.
“It's late, he's probably sleep. I'm just gonna drop off this milk, and grab some clothes.”
Wayne gave her a droll look. “You know damn well he ain't sleep.”
Mariah rolled her eyes and walked up to the door. She fumbled with the keys in the dark before she managed to find the right key, and quietly opened the door. Wayne followed her.
She walked through the kitchen and could see Michael sitting in the living room with Bill and Vicki.
“I can't believe she would do some shit like that.” Bill was saying.
Vicki nodded back. “You'd think she'd wanna be with her family.”
Mariah glared at the back of her head and continued towards the refrigerator with the jugs.
Crash.
She jumped back as she knocked the decorative spice rack off the kitchen island.
Fuck.
Wayne shook his head, his arms folded.
“What the hell?” Bill shouted.
The group turned their heads to see what was going on before running into the kitchen area.
The lights flipped on and Mariah slowly turned to see Michael, Vicki, and Bill all standing in the doorway.
She awkwardly waved. “Hey everybody.”
“Smooth.” Wayne said to her.
Mariah set the two full milk jugs on the island and looked at Michael. His face was unreadable.
He walked over to her and she involuntarily flinched. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.
“Baby, I'm glad you're home.”
Mariah looked up at him, worriedly. “You’re what?”
He smiled. “I'm happy you're back.”
She glanced at Bill and Vicki from the corner of her eye and they seemed just as surprised as she was.
He hugged her again. “Sit down.”
Mariah reluctantly sat down at the island. Michael turned back to everyone else in the room. “You guys should take the night off. I wanna have some time with my wife.”
“Good luck.” Wayne mouthed as he followed Bill and Vicki out of the kitchen. When Michael turned back to her, she noticed his hand was wrapped up.
“What happened?” She asked.
He looked down.
“Oh this?” He shrugged. “It's nothing.”
Mariah nodded. “Why were Bill and Vicki here?”
“Oh we were just talking about work stuff. You know all about that though.”
She held her breath.
“I mean since you had your big album release last year.” He continued.
She giggled nervously. “Yeah.”
He picked up the jugs of milk. “For the girls?”
She tightened her lips and nodded hastily.
“Aww, that’s really sweet. A mother feeding her young.” Michael said. He sounded like something straight out of a storybook.
“Why don’t I feed you?” He suggested.
She smiled. “Oh no, that’s fine baby--really, it is.”
Michael chuckled. “Calm down nervous Nancy.”
Shit he can tell.
“I’ll make you something simple--like a gourmet pizza or something, since my hand is wrapped up.” He said.
She nodded, trying not to make eye contact.
He eyed her intently. “With a dinner salad.”
January 11th, 1998
Michael came back downstairs as Mariah was finishing up her meal. He excused himself a bit earlier and instructed her to finish all her food while he was away. He walked back into the dining room, took her plate, and put it in the dishwasher. She tried to get up from the table.
“Where are you going?” He asked innocently.
She stopped. “I-I was gonna go-”
“I ran you a bath.” He interrupted. “Come upstairs.”
He grabbed her hand and led her to the master bathroom. He helped her undress--stopping to scan her up and down. Mariah made a move to cover herself but he grabbed her wrist.
Michael smiled. “You're so pretty.”
“Th-thank you.” She smiled back.
He led her over to the tub and helped her get in. He sat on the edge and started rubbing her shoulders.
“You're really tense, sweetheart. You should relax.”
Mariah tried to move his hand, but he only gripped her tighter.
“Michael, stop.” She exclaimed.
He shook his head, chuckling. “Girl, just relax and let me take care of you.”
Mariah tried to get away again but he pulled her back towards him.
She started again. “You don't have-”
“I want to.” He said, voice firm. “Let me do this for you. You've been working so hard.”
He kneaded her back, pressing a bit harder. “You deserve to just lean back and relax.”
“Mike that hurts.” She whimpered.
He lightened up, and Mariah began to lather her body. They remained silent as Mariah washed up, Michael gently massaging her. He got up to get her towel for her to dry off while she rinsed herself. She got out and dried off, then wrapped herself in her black robe. Michael followed her out of the bathroom, narrowing his eyes as she made her way to the bedroom.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.
“Well, I’m tired. I want to go to sleep now.”
Michael shook his head. “Not in here you won’t.”
Her lips formed a hard line. It’s like she knew this was coming. She wrapped her robe around her body a little tighter and turned towards the bedroom door.
He waited until she’d stepped out of the door and walked over to the twins’ bedroom door before bolting behind her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, accusingly.
“I’m just going to check on the twins.”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re lying through your damn teeth.” At this point, whatever reserve Michael tried to maintain earlier was slowly slipping away.
“You know what, get your ass down them stairs right now.” He instructed, maintaining his whisper.
Mariah wrapped her arms over her stomach and did as instructed.
He walked close behind her, watching as she entered the living room. She started towards the couch. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Michael I’m-”
“About to get your ass away from that couch.” He interrupted.
She stood in front of the couch near the coffee table. Noticing her learning on the table, he moved it out of the way.
She scowled at him. He sent it back before sitting down on the couch.
“You think you hot shit don’t you?” He questioned.
Her eyes downcast.
“Answer me!” Michael shouted.
She jumped back. “No I don’t. I’m sor-”
“Ain’t no sorry! You wanna leave your starving children in the middle of the fucking night all so you can sing your little songs? Is that how much you think of them?” He screamed at her.
She shook her head hastily, desperate to keep her eyes glued to the floor.
He jumped up off the couch and slowly approached her. When he was finally steps away from her, she snapped her eyes shut, looking to be saying a silent prayer.
He walked behind her and whispered in her ear. “Why don’t you show me what you left our children for. Show me how good you are.”
He slowly backed away from her as she opened her eyes.
“Well?” He started again.
“Perform!” He shouted.
She jumped up and started to sing a song from her Butterfly album. He laughed at her and walked into the kitchen. She abruptly stopped.
He zoomed out of the kitchen shouting, “Did I tell you to stop?”
She quickly shook her head, on the brink of tears, and started again. He walked back into the kitchen and pulled out the near-empty Koolaid pitcher, filling it with ice and then water. He grabbed a straw from the kitchen drawer and carried the items back into the living room.
He took a seat on the couch, placing the pitcher down on the floor next to him. Soon he crossed his legs and closed his eyes. “I want you to sing until I get tired.”
“But Mik-”
“Bitch, did I tell you to stop?” He exclaimed, flicking his eyes open. “You wanna sing so bad well then sing!”
She nodded and continued.
Again, he laughed at her.
She tugged at her robe strings, trying to find comfort in the situation.
“Take the robe off.” Michael instructed.
“What?”
“If you stop one more fucking time- Take the fucking robe off!”
She nodded, biting back tears. She slowly slid the robe off her shoulders and sang to him.
He cackled at her.
“You dumb ass.” He mocked.
She tried to suck up her tears but her eyes wouldn’t let her. A single tear slid down her cheek.
“No crying.” He instructed, coldly. “Crying’s for babies and I’ve already got two of them.”
“Michael I’m try-”
Splash.
Her face and body was instantly met with the freezing cold sensation of half a pitcher of ice water.
She cried out in pain. “Michael stop! I said I’m sor”
He hurled another rush of water at her. “Keep singing!”
She started again.
“You trying my patience. I told you don’t stop until I get enough.”
She paused again. “I was just saying I’m sorr”
Splash.
“You ‘sorry’. I bet you are.” He spat. “I don’t give a damn how sorry you are. Try telling that to our two-week olds. Oh yeah, that’s right: they won’t be able to understand you. But what they do understand is that their mother is a cold hearted bitch who leaves them in the middle of the night without even a titty to suck on! You stupid fucking bitch!”
Splash.
Michael emptied the pitcher over her shivering naked body before standing up and hurling it across the room. She winced in fear, weeping through her song.
Michael yelled over her sobs and muffled singing. “What kind of woman does shit like that Mariah? Fuck you! Fuck you! I don’t understand!” He began pacing across the room, tears threatening his eyes. “You fucking idiot! Our children could have starved to death but you didn’t give a damn about them. I-”
Distantly, Michael could hear crying from the twins’ room. “You keep going. I’m gonna go check on my kids. If I come back and you ain’t standing your ass right here putting on a show worth leaving your kids over, you can go make your bed outside.”